I couldn’t possibly tell you what the film’s about, and at this point I don’t know if David Lynch could. It’s become sort of a pastime — Laura [Dern] and I sit around on set trying to figure out what’s going on.

-Justin Theroux, co-star of Inland Empire

David Lynch has finally outweirded himself with Inland Empire, his self-financed and self-distributed experiment with digital filmmaking. It begins with a desolate sitcom featuring people in rabbit costumes and ends with a dance sequence featuring a lumberjack and a one-legged woman. In between there are shifting levels of reality, dream sequences that pretend they’re set in waking life, and vice-versa. The only thing odder than the movie is the fact that I dig it whole-heartedly. It ain’t Mulholland Drivebut, then, what the hell really is?

Okay, here’s how I figure it. If you see the name “David Lynch” under the director credit, and you have the gall to complain that the film “doesn’t make any sense,” then you seriously have to turn in your moviegoer badge. He’s been making movies for decades and you JUST figured out he’s a little off-kilter? You DO know who David Lynch is, right? He’s the guy who makes “David Lynch Movies.” It’s like watching Charlie Chaplin movies and then, after the third one, you think to yourself “Wait a minute. These movies are silent! BOOOOOOOOO!”

Truth be told, I haven’t been a Lynch fan for very long. His earlier stuff makes my ass ache, with its dependence on corny dialogue and retro-kitsch. Imagine what would happen if John Waters all of a sudden took himself extremely seriously one day, and you’ll get what I think about Wild At Heart and Blue Velvet. But as he’s gotten older, he’s gravitated towards my personal way of thinking. He’s dropped all his encumbrances and become more sincere. Yeah, Inland Empire is bizarre, but it’s bizarre from the heart. I don’t mind if you’re strange and nonsensical, but mean it. Don’t look like you’re putting on airs.

I sense you have the question of “What is this movie about?” I counter this with another question”¦ “Are you out of your fucking mind?” I can’t possibly summarize this movie. I don’t know where to start because the movie itself doesn’t know where to start. Thank God they have the little synopses on Netflix sleeves for situations like this”¦

“Nikki (Laura Dern) is a married actress who ends up in bed with her co-star (Justin Theroux), but is it an affair or just acting? When the two start calling each other by their characters’ names, the faint line between fact and fiction gets even fuzzier in this David Lynch mystery. Jeremy Irons stars as Kingsley, the director of the film within the film who does little to help the characters — or the audience — distinguish reality from fantasy.”

But by reprinting this, I have failed to explain neither “Jack,” nor his elder brother “Shit.” As a critic, I can only explain what lies in the margins with sure footing, for the heart is lost to me. I can’t make heads or tails of it, but that’s part of the intense allure of Inland Empire. Even after the credits, it’s still a mystery. By sheer visual and aural grace, we are compelled onward.

And a performance by Laura Dern that goes beyond “brave” and into “heroic” territory helps matters as well. Seeing her tear her guts out for us, we are introduced to the fact that what we think about all this really doesn’t matter. If SHE believes it, we’re all gonna be okay.

A lot has been made about Lynch filming Inland Empire on a camcorder, (the Sony DSR-PD150 to be precise) and I think it helps with the overall style he had in mind for the film. You can hide nothing from this little consumer product, which gives more dimension to the face and leaves ghostly traces of pale skin in dark light. Ghostly images in the dark swell and leave an aura, like a hand trying to tear through fabric. The effect is quite chilling.

But if I absolutely HAD to enter the ring with a theory about what this all means, I’d have to go with that Inland Empire is about the actual ACT of sitting down and watching a movie. The narrative consists of many stories bleeding on one another. Laura Dern exists on one level as the actress playing her part. On another level, she IS the part, existing in the universe of the story. On yet a third level, there is the REAL woman (Karolina Gruzka) who featured in a Polish folk tale upon which Dern’s film is based. AND ON YET A FOURTH LEVEL, there is the sitcom with the rabbits, which has eerie parallels with all the rest of the action.

Now, were I a pretentious ass (which it just so happens I AM on Tuesdays) I would say that with each fictional layer that entertainment plasters on a real event, the emotional blow is lessened. The more people that watch, the fewer can really handle reality on that basic level. The only thing keeping YOUR life from being a sitcom with the Easter Bunny playing you is how big an audience you garner.

Y’know”¦ Or not. That’s the beauty of a movie like this. You can place subtext and work up a theory so that the movie MEANS something to you and you can become a part of the director’s creative process. And you can trade theories and learn more about the movie and, in rare cases, more about yourself. That which separates Lynch from his imitators like Richard Kelly (basically Donnie Darko is really just Lost Highway with a whole bunch of NutraSweet thrown in) is that when he tries this, you really have to think about it, and your answer can’t come out as a fortune cookie bon mot like “Death Sucks.”

But for now, I like Inland Empire for the nonsensical mess it looks like upon a first viewing. It’s not the eternal howl of moral rage Mulholland Drive was (according to me), but it’s more than successful for its time and place. When everything starts to taste like beans from all the “sameness,” our Dave from Montana up and shook some shit up for me. It’s something different. His mix of sight and sound fills one with dread and eerie wonder that stays with you long after the credits have stopped rolling.

Great movies did that the last time I checked.

***1/2 out of 4

Production Photos